


He loves me... He loves me not?

by sephirothflame



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, One Shot, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-04
Updated: 2010-08-04
Packaged: 2017-10-10 22:53:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/105287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sephirothflame/pseuds/sephirothflame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Castiel have been best friends since forever so it wasn't a surprise when they started dating. Dean just wished they weren't taking it so slow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He loves me... He loves me not?

**Author's Note:**

> Written for cloudyjenn.

It had gotten to the point where if Dean wasn't working or sleeping, he was spending his time with Castiel. The two of them had been best friends since Dean was in the first grade and Castiel's family moved in down the street from him. They had always spent a lot of time together but lately they had been inseparable.

Like, seriously gay _go to movies together_ and _meet up at diners for breakfast and lunch_ and _cook each other dinner_ and _saw this, thought you'd like it_ inseparable. Or, in layman's terms – because Dean always preferred things to be simplified – the dating kind of inseparable.

Which, Dean was cool with. He hadn't had a lot of experience with dating, at least, not the good kind of experience. His longest relationship ever barely made it past six months. He certainly didn't have _any_ experience with dating a guy but, hey, he was surprisingly open-minded and if he had to fall for someone, why not his best friend since forever?

As far as Dean was concerned, Castiel was perfect. He was a little anal retentive about how clean and organized his apartment had to be, he didn't eat red meat and he got up at the ass crack of dawn but those were things Dean could overlook. Castiel was the best cook Dean had ever met, he made apple pie from scratch, he didn't snore or hog the blankets (on the few occasions they'd gotten plastered and shared a bed), he didn't try to change the music in Dean's car, he never forgot to buy orange juice and he got along exceptionally well with Sam.

(_Those were only the non-physical things Dean liked best about Castiel. His best friend always got embarrassed when someone mentioned that he had bedroom eyes or sex hair or an ass you could bounce pennies off of – though Dean was in complete agreement._)

So, needless to say after three months of slow buildup and awkward intense gazes Dean was a little confused as to how things were playing out between them.

Case in point: The first time they kissed was Sam's birthday, the booze flowing and the music blaring. Dean didn't remember what compelled him to do it but Castiel was his boyfriend, he could kiss him if he wanted to. So he did.

What he hadn't expected was for Castiel to freeze up, staring at him in wide eyed shocked. "You're drunk," he accused, gently pushing Dean an arm's distance away from himself.

"Maybe," Dean agreed, grinning at Castiel. He tugged Castiel towards him to kiss him again.

"Please stop," Castiel scowled. He squirmed, tugging himself free from Dean's grasp. "Do not do something you will regret in the morning."

Hurt, Dean acquiesced to Castiel's demands. If Castiel seriously thought Dean being a little tipsy would lead to something bad, well, Dean would humor him this time. He had no intention of ever hurting his best friend slash boyfriend but he might as well play it safe.

When Dean mentioned it to Sam, his younger brother simply looked thoughtful. "Cas hasn't ever really been in a serious relationship before," he said, contemplative. "Maybe he's uncomfortable with you sticking your tongue down his throat when you're drunk."

"I wasn't _drunk_," Dean scoffed. "I was still wearing my pants and I knew how to use a fire extinguisher."

"I'm just saying that maybe you guys should take it slow," Sam explained, shrugging his shoulders. "Wait. Why did you need to know how to use a fire extinguisher?"

Dean ducked out of the room without answering. He was an expert at avoiding things.

He did, however, take Sam's words to heart. The next time he saw Castiel – which was later that afternoon because they seriously spent that much time together – he didn't try to kiss him. He did bump shoulders or knees with Castiel when they plopped down on Castiel's ratty couch and watched _Jaws_.

Moving slowly wasn't something Dean knew how to do. He was usually getting freaky within a few hours of meeting someone because he was just _awesome_ like that. The next few weeks of innocent brushing up against each other and random intense gazes were almost too much for Dean. He was going to go crazy if he didn't make some sort of visible progress soon.

Castiel asking if Dean had a copy of _Predator_ that he could borrow was the perfect opening.

"Why the sudden interest in this movie?" Dean asked, tossing the flimsy plastic case to Castiel.

Castiel caught it easily, flipping it over to read the back. He furrowed his brow in concentration because Castiel was the kind of guy to take a movie summary seriously. It was almost cute, not that Dean would ever admit to it.

"Gabriel has been making pop culture references because he knows I do not understand them," Castiel explained. He crouched in front of his television and fumbled with his DVD player. "He does it to spite me. I am sick of it."

"I don't blame you," Dean replied, plopping down onto the couch and putting his feet on Castiel's coffee table. "That guy is an ass."

"Dean," Castiel warned. He was wearing his _that's my brother and I love him so shut up before I punch you in the face_ face.

"Hurry up," Dean replied, rolling his eyes. He pat the spot next to him on the worn leather, flashing the other male his most charming grin.

Castiel rolled his eyes but complied none-the-less.

If there was one thing Dean knew about dating, for sure, it was that it was perfectly fine and normal to hold hands while sitting in the dark watching a movie. He'd been on tons of dates in his life and it was one thing that had never failed him before. Girls always dug the hand holding thing, he wasn't sure why, but he was willing to give anything a shot.

Which he did, halfway through the movie. Castiel's hand was lying limp between them on the couch. Glancing at it out of the corner of his eye, Dean covered it with his own slowly, twining their fingers together.

"Dean?" Castiel asked, confusion evident in his voice. His fingers twitched beneath Dean's own, but he didn't try to pull his hand away.

Dean counted that as a win. "Just watch the movie," he whispered back, squeezing their hands together lightly.

Castiel stared at him for what felt like an eternity before obeying. They sat shoulder to shoulder in the darkened room, holding hands through the rest of the movie. It felt a little weird, but Dean wasn't going to complain.

It wasn't until after the movie that Castiel pulled his hand free of Dean's. "I don't understand Gabriel's love for this movie."

"Seriously? _Predator_ is a classic," Dean frowned, trying not to be upset by the lack of contact. "Wait, I'm talking to a guy who's favorite movie is _Amélie_. Audrey Tautou is not that hot."

"_Le fabuleux destin d'Amélie Poulain_ is not my favorite movie," Castiel said, frowning as well. "You don't like her because of _À la folie... pas du tout_."

Dean paused, raking his brain trying to think of the movie Castiel was talking about. "Is that the one where she's crazy? You know, with the guy she's seeing but – whatever? Crazy?"

Castiel nodded.

"I hated that movie," Dean said, letting out an annoyed huff. "I can't believe you made me watch it."

"You said I could pick the movie," Castiel countered. "You did not leave any specifications on what it had to be about. I have never complained when you chose a movie."

"That's because I don't make you read subtitles," Dean muttered. He wondered briefly if the argument would blow up into a full-fledged fight. That would make it their first real fight as a couple. Dean didn't want to fight.

Castiel opened his mouth to reply, but Dean cut him off with a swift kiss. Castiel's lips were soft, if a little chapped, and it was definitely something Dean could get used to.

As soon as Castiel stopped pushing him away, that was. "Dean?" He asked, confused, turning his head so that Dean's lips brushed against his cheeks. "Are you – drunk?" He sounded skeptical of his own words.

"Why do you always assume I'm drunk when I kiss you?" Dean asked, exasperated.

"Because I am unsure as to why you keep kissing me," Castiel replied honestly. He pushed farther away from Dean, until his back hit the armrest of the couch. "It only makes sense for you to do so if you're drunk."

"I – what?" Dean asked, blinking in confusion. "That's not it at _all_."

It was Castiel's turn to blink in confusion. "It isn't?"

"Dude, I kissed you because we've been dating for almost five months," Dean replied. He couldn't decide whether to be annoyed or exasperated.

Castiel just looked plain confused. "I – we have?"

"Cas…" Dean said slowly, furrowing his brow in confusion. "Why did that sound like a question?"

"Because it was a question," Castiel replied, furrowing his brow as well. "I apologize. I was unaware that we have been… dating… for so long."

Dean just stared. There was no way that this wasn't just some sort of bad joke. Only, Castiel would never do that to him, that Dean was sure of. "Cas…" Dean said slowly, bringing a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "You really didn't know?"

"I would never lie to you, Dean," Castiel said with finality.

Which, was kind of reassuring, even though Castiel had told him that multiple times over their many years as friends. That didn't stop the wave of embarrassment from washing over Dean, his cheeks reddening. "So these last few months – all this time we've been spending together? It wasn't – we weren't?"

"In hindsight I can understand how you would be confused," Castiel replied reassuringly. "It is not something I will hold against you."

"Right," Dean sighed, licking his lips as he slumped back into his seat. "That's – right. I appreciate that."

He was never going to live it down. As soon as Sam found out – or even worse, _Gabriel_ \- Dean was going to be mocked for the rest of his existence. The sad thing was, that wasn't even the worst part. Dean had been genuinely happy for once. He thought he'd had the greatest boyfriend ever – even if he didn't put out, which _hello_, made sense now – but he really just made a tool of himself.

"I'm sorry, Cas," Dean muttered. He pushed himself up off the couch, smoothing down his shirt and jeans as he stood. "This is awkward, so I'm just going to go home and mock myself silently about this for a few hours."

"Why are you going to mock yourself?" Castiel asked. He followed Dean through his apartment, catching his elbow before the taller male could just leave. "I don't understand."

"Because I'm an idiot," Dean explained, covering his face with a hand. "I'm in love with you, have been for who knows how long. I'm entirely too sober to deal with this – this Revelation, or whatever."

"You love me?" Castiel asked, his voice catching as the words rushed out.

Dean stared at him intently for a long moment before finally nodding. "Yeah, I am."

Castiel stared at him in wide-eyed shock.

The silence was awkward and deafening, and if someone down the hall didn't slam the door to their apartment, Dean didn't know if Castiel would have ever moved again. He was thankful they did though because it meant Castiel octopussed himself around Dean, crashing their lips together in a rough kiss.

"Um, Cas?" Dean asked when the parted for air. "Not that I'm complaining – "

"Shut up and kiss me," Castiel demanded, tugging Dean to press their lips together again.

Dean was more than a little confused but this was progress and it was good. They'd figure out the details later. Dean couldn't be bothered to try and think when Castiel was arched against him, fingers tangled in his shirt and nipping at his lower lip in desperation. In his defense, who could be?


End file.
